You Can't Be The Hero That's My Job!
by Henrietta-thepseudonym
Summary: Harry is diagnosed with a strange illness, Heroismitis! With it being contagious and there being no cure, only chaos can ensue! Will be HG and HrR! AU!
1. Chapter One: Symptoms and a Diagnosis!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything - instead I borrow it, chop it all up and marinade it in a cheesy sauce. Bake for 35 minutes, at gas mark 6, then leave to cool. Serving suggestion: With a pinch of salt.

**AN:** So sorry that this illness is so convenient and all - but that's life for you! Not that this fic, in anyway, alludes to real life scenarios. Honest.

**AN2:** Okay, I feel like editing my fic, so I am. The punctuation and syntax I'd used annoys me now, so I'm changing it.

**AN3:** Eagerly (well, one likes to hope) anticipated (ie. I promised it months ago, and still haven't got around to writing it) _Chapter Five: I Smell Danger_, will be written shortly. I promise. And this time I mean it.

**You Can't Be The Hero-That's My Job!**

By Henrietta

**Chapter One: Symptoms and a Diagnosis**

"Does Dean look as if he's choking to you?" asked Harry, the undisputed hero of the _Harry Potter _novels.

"Um...no...are you feeling all right, Harry?" Hermione was concerned, as this was the fourth person, that lunchtime, which Harry had suspected of choking.

But he never replied. "Oh, my God! He _is_!" cried Harry, as he vaulted over the table, sending food and cutlery flying. "Don't worry Dean! I'll save you!"

He dragged the boy - who actually wasn't choking - to his feet and proceeded to give him the Heimlich Manoeuvre.

"What the-?" was all a startled Dean could manage, before Harry tried to "save" him.

"Harry! _Harry!_ He's _not_ choking!" Hermione yelled across the table, but no avail.

It was a scene of much chaos, before the combined efforts of Ron and Seamus managed to release Dean from Harry's clutches.

"Get off me! I must save him!" Harry struggled against his hold, causing the two other boys minor injury.

"The only thing Dean needs saving from, is _you_. Nutter!" Seamus professed, his lip now bleeding.

Professor McGonagall arrived on the scene. "Take him to the Hospital Wing, boys; see if Madam Pomfrey knows what's wrong with him," she bent down to talk to Dean, who was now sat on a chair trying to breath properly again. "I think he's just winded you, Mr Thomas. Best not to follow him to the Hospital Wing while he's in that state though."

OOO

Ron and Seamus had to drag Harry - who was literally kicking and screaming - all the way to the Hospital Wing. Hermione followed at a safe distance.

"Get him on a bed," instructed the Matron, Madam Pomfrey. "I'll give him a calming draught."

When Harry was all calmed down, the Matron pulled the curtains around his bed closed, and began to medically examine him in a bid to determine his ailment.

It was a tense time for Ron and Hermione (Seamus had left to see if Dean was all right after his ordeal) as they paced the Hospital Wing, anxiously awaiting news.

Finally after half an hour, Madam Pomfrey emerged from behind the curtain. She looked grim.

"It's bad news I'm afraid. It appears that Harry has been infected with," she paused for dramatic effect. "Heroismitis."

"Good God! No!" Hermione clasped her hand to her mouth in shock.

"W-what is it?" asked Ron, fearing the worst.

"It's a dreadful illness; it makes the sufferer uncontrollably heroic. There is no known cure," Madam Pomfrey sniffed and sat down heavily. "But that's not the worst of it - oh, no. It is _highly_ contagious."

"You mean - _we_ could be infected _too_?" Ron asked shakily, the colour draining from his face.

"We all could. Especially Gryffindors, as they already possess large quantities of courage. My word! There'll surely be an epidemic," she stood, defiantly. "I _must_ save all the students."

"Oh, dear! She's been infected!" Hermione backed away. "What shall we do?"

"Um...get out of here?" Ron suggested.

"Good plan," and with that they both made there way to the door. Neither of them looked back.


	2. Chapter Two:MustFindCure!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything - instead I borrow it, chop it all up and marinade it in a cheesy sauce. Bake for 35 minutes, at gas mark 6, then leave to cool. Serving suggestion: With a pinch of salt.

**AN:** Yes, I'm editing this chapter too.

**You Can't Be The Hero-That's My Job!**

**Chapter 2: Must...find...cure...!**

Both Ron and Hermione arrived back at the Gryffindor common room, in a bit of a tiz, to say the least.

"We're _doomed_ aren't we? All of us - _doomed_ to become infected with Heroismitis! _Doomed_ worst than we've ever been _doomed_ before! This is it - our undoing!" Hermione, overcome with self-pity and grief, sank to the floor and cried like a baby; while Ron ran up to his dormitory and began packing - he was getting the hell out of there.

Ginny, seeing the duo's strange behaviour, cautiously tip-toed over to Hermione to see what was wrong, and get all the goss'. "Hermione, are you okay?" she asked sympathetically, getting to her knees next to her sobbing friend. "What's happened?"

"G-Ginny! It's Harry. He's ill," Hermione sobbed harder. "Heroismitis - there's no -"

"Cure," Ginny finished. "No. Not Harry. Please, no. There _must_ be some mistake?"

Hermione shook her head sadly.

There was a loud noise, as Ron shoved his trunk down the dormitory stairs.

"Well, I'm off. Tell Harry, no offence and all that, but I'd rather not catch his illness," he buttoned up his cloak and was about to drag his trunk in the direction of the portrait hole, when he was stopped in his tracks.

"Ronald Weasley! _How_ can you leave now? He's your _best friend _for God's sake," Ginny looked at her brother in disgust. "Harry may have Heroismitis, but you, dearest brother, have got yourself a bout of _Cowardiceitis_!"

There was silence (even from all the other Gryffindors - they were riveted to the goings-on). It was quite awkward.

"You're right. _You're right_! What kind of friend _am_ I? Abandoning Harry at a time like this!" Ron would have looked at _himself _in disgust, if only he'd had a mirror.

Suddenly, the portrait hole swung open to reveal -

"Harry! You're contagious!" Hermione shrieked, as she flung herself behind Ron, for...um...protection! Yes, that's it - protection...from those nasty airborne germs of Harry's. "You've got to go back to the Hospital Wing."

But Harry ignored her and strode gallantly into the common room.

"No," he said nobly. "I can not. Not when I have _a quest_. A quest to find a cure for this illness. For the good of humanity, I must not sit around in the Hospital Wing. No...I must save us all. It is my duty as the hero, after all," he concluded with his hands on his hips.

This extremely dramatic moment was brought to a close, however, when Seamus (who had been in the crowd of Gryffindors, watching the drama unfold) made a shocking announcement.

"_You're_ not the hero, though. I am."

Everyone turned to stare at him, aghast.

"Don't be silly, Seamus. _You're_ not the hero," Dean scoffed, but then ever so suddenly, he got a mad glint in his eye. "Neither of you are - _because I am_."

"I don't think so, mate," there was a distinct note of bitterness in Seamus' voice.

"Er, _excuse me_," Harry was not pleased at all by this distraction - they were taking away _his_ spotlight. "The only hero around here is _me_. Always has been, always will be."

"Harry, they don't mean it," Ginny hissed. "They're ill - just like _you_."

"The only way to settle who the true hero is...is with a duel - the winner will obviously be the hero," Dean suggested.

"Fine by me," Harry nodded, courageously.

"And me," Seamus declared.

"Bring it on."

Hermione decided that a duel would be a bad idea. A _very_ bad idea. "Harry can I have a word with you...outside," She nodded in the direction of the portrait hole.

"Of course. Then I'll duel the winner of this _so-called_ heroes'duel," he followed her and Ron out into the corridor.

"Harry, you have to go back to the Hospital Wing, _this instant_!" Hermione pleaded. "You've already infected three people."

"Well then, all the more reason to fulfil my quest. _Think_ about it - now they're infected, they too will infect others; soon everyone will be infected and there'll be no cure," Harry bravely puffed out his chest. "Even if I infect a thousand people, I've _got_ to find a cure. And when I do, everything can go back to being peachy."

"_Peachy_?" Ron asked, baffled.

Both of his friends, however, ignored this comment.

"What about the whole V-Voldemort thing?" Hermione was now concerned that a symptom of Heroismitis was memory loss.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Don't ruin the moment, Hermione."

OOO

The trio were ambling down another corridor, several minutes later. None of them had a clue where to start.

"What do we usually do at the start of a quest?" Harry asked his loyal sidekicks.

"Well, we don't usually call them quests-" Ron began.

"Whatever. What do we usually do at the start of a quest?" Harry repeated...um...bravely.

"We usually just notice suspicious things, I suppose," Hermione strained her mind back through all their previous years at Hogwarts. "The actual "quest" bit doesn't usually happen until June-ish time; coincidentally, most of the time, it was just after we'd finished that year's exams..."

"Except second year," Ron reminisced.

"Yes...second year," Hermione's words were spoken darkly; layered with revulsion, at just the mere memory of that year's exams being cancelled as a school treat. She shuddered involuntarily.

"Well, we can't wait until _June_ to find a cure-it's _October_ for crying out loud," Harry was horrified - in a stout-of-heart sort of way, of course.

Suddenly Hermione remembered she was Hermione-

"To the library!" she cried.

So off they went...but they never made it, due to the fact that they bumped into someone they'd much rather they hadn't. Draco Malfoy.

"Well, well, well, look who it _isn't_," Malfoy said, smirkishly.

"Get lost, Malfoy," Harry spoke boldly, yet he was clearly disgusted to see his archenemy (well, _one_ of them) within a 40-metre radius of him. "We're too busy for your cretinous insults right now."

"Yeah, maybe later?" Ron added, sarcastically.

"Hold on, just a minute! I won't be spoken to like that; not by anyone - let alone you two losers," Malfoy spat, indignantly.

"Put your dummy back in, Malfoy," Hermione recommended. "Because we don't want to hear it."

"_Don't_ tell me what to do, you _filthy_, little Mudblood," there was a look of disgust etched upon Malfoy's pointy features.

"Why you little-" but before Ron could lunge himself at Malfoy and tear him limb from snobbish-limb; Harry had valiantly dived on top of blond-bombshell and was now pummelling him into the stone floor.

Malfoy tried to fight back, but the Heroismitis made Harry think he was invincible. Therefore he was. Ah, the power of belief...

**AN:** Soooooooo...what do you think? I'd simply LOVE to know, so please review!


	3. Chapter Three:GUSH My Hero! END GUSH

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything - instead I borrow it, chop it all up and marinade it in a cheesy sauce. Bake for 35 minutes, at gas mark 6, then leave to cool. Serving suggestion: With a pinch of salt.

**AN:** Before I begin, I'd like to address a point one _HermioneGranger_ brought up in her review. She quite 'eloquently' told me that if my fic wasn't Harry/Hermione, then I shouldn't have said the main characters were in fact Harry and Hermione when submitting it; but they _are_ the main characters - them _and_ Ron, coming in at a close third. It's not like my fic's a romance (although, there will be a tiny bit - but that's a subplot.), so I didn't think people would assume that it was Harry/Hermione and to make absolutely sure, I said in the summary "Most definitely not H/Hr". I'm truly sorry this offended _HermioneGranger_ so much - I'll just go curl up in a ball and die now, as I'm sure it will make her feel a lot better about how I dared to commit _such a heinous crime_.

Now on with the story...(which may contain **HBP SPOILERS**!)

**You Can't Be The Hero - That's My Job!**

**Chapter 3: GUSH My Hero! END GUSH or The Chapter in Which the Plot Doesn't Develop!**

Malfoy had been pulverised. Absolutely pulverised. But don't feel too sorry for him though...it's not as if he's worth your pity.

"M-mum-my," he groaned. "M-mum-my."

The trio ignored him and left him in a battered heap on the floor.

"Harry you really _didn't_ need to do that," Hermione was torn between being grateful and telling him off.

"Of course I did, you were a damsel in distress and I came to your aid," said Harry, with an air of chivalry.

Hermione was affronted. She wasn't best pleased at being referred to as a "damsel in distress".

"Well, I don't think it was _quite_ like that...was it Ron? _Ron?_"

Ron however, didn't _seem_ to agree.

"He was just defending your honour, wasn't he? That's what the _hero does_, after all," Ron sounded more than just a tad embittered, but neither of his friends _appeared_ to notice.

"All I know is, that Malfoy git has gone and set back our quest - we need to find a cure...and fast," Harry was suddenly struck by a bolt of inspiration. "McGonagall! We need to speak to her in her new capacity as Headmistress; she'll be able to help us."

"Good thinking ScarBoy!" Ron cried with a sudden burst of enthusiasm.

"Oh no! Not you too, Ron?" Hermione also cried, but more with despair than enthusiasm.

"What? Oh - _oh_ - God no!" Ron assured her. "No, I was just thinking now Harry's got Heroismitis, maybe he'd like a super hero name to go with it. Thought I'd try it out - set the ground work, you know?"

"Not really."

"Pfft! As if _super _heroes exist. How bizarre would _that_ be?" Harry scoffed. "How would they get their superpowers? _Magic_? I don't think!"

"Er...Harry? Are you forgetting something?"

"No, why? Did I leave the cauldron on?"

Hermione was just about to explain to Harry that he was being stupid, but she never got that far. At that precise second a bloodcurdling scream echoed through the castle. Harry's hero senses kicked in immediately. He hurled himself up the nearest flight of stairs and raced toward the Gryffindor common room, where the scream had come from.

The scene that met his eyes as he climbed through the portrait hole was one of utter chaos...clearly more people had become infected.

There were duels between various pairs of students going on all over the place; Seamus Finnigan was attempting to give a struggling Colin Creevey the 'kiss of life'; Lavender Brown was yelling something about Health and Safety, whilst frantically trying to tidy away any 'hazards'; a fifth-year (who will remain nameless...because I don't feel like giving him a name..._oh, all right then_ - his name was Bob. But that's all you're getting.) was busy dousing the flames of the common room fire with water, as he felt it was getting too out of hand; someone else was trying to kick a door in, presumably to save someone 'trapped' on the other side; and quite a lot of people were yelling "I'll save you!" at the top of their voices.

"Harry! Thank God, you're here!" Harry turned to his left and saw Ginny coming to towards him, emerging out of the chaos that had engulfed the Gryffindor common room. "Everyone's infected! You've got to do something!"

"Believe me, I'm trying. But you're okay?" he grabbed a hold of her arms, trying to keep her upright. The events of the day were beginning to take their toll on her.

"Yes. Yes I am," she lent against his chest, letting him support her weight. "For some reason I haven't been infected...yet."

"You can't stay here any longer," he expertly threw her over his shoulder into a Fireman's Lift. "I'm going to take you to safety."

As they were trying to exit the common room (not so expertly, I might add) Ron and Hermione finally arrived; Hermione was clutching at a stitch in her side.

"Whoa, Harry! Pant You run Pant fast these Pant days," panted Hermione.

"Why is my sister over your shoulder?" Ron forgot to pant.

"I'm taking her to safety," Harry informed him.

"Oh, so that's what you're calling it these days, is it?" Ron looked angry.

Hermione felt it would probably be best to avert the situation.

"_So_, Harry, did you manage to save the person who screamed?"

"What?...Oh yeah! Damn! I forgot," Harry slapped his forehead with his free hand. Both comically and heroically at the same time. Which is quite a feat.

"Don't worry, it was me who screamed," confessed Ginny. "Dean seemed to think my skirt was on fire and tried to remove it."

"HE DID _WHAT_?" Ron disappeared into the common room; he was going to kick some arse.

OOO

Harry took Ginny to safety. Safety was a broom cupboard on the fourth floor. Hermione accompanied them.

"You'll be safe here," Harry assured Ginny.

"Really?" she seemed doubtful; she had every reason to.

"Ginny, would I lie to you?" he stroked her hair.

"Of course not, but you can't promise me something like that," she reasoned. "It might already be too late for me."

"Don't say that!"

"But it's true," she whispered. "I've been lucky so far...unless there's a cure, Harry, _we're all _in danger."

Harry squared his shoulders. "Well, then, it's up to me to save the day; but first..." he bent down and kissed her full on the lips.

Hermione felt awkward; Harry and Ginny were clearly having a romantic moment here, and she was playing gooseberry.

"I'm just going over there..." she pointed in a vague direction and went off in it.

Ginny and Harry emerged from their passionate kiss.

"A lot of people are counting on you, Harry, especially me. Come back safe," Ginny was now close to tears. "...and all in one piece."

"Don't worry." he turned to leave. " I will. Now that's a promise."

OOO

"Well, Dean Thomas won't be bothering my sister again. Not anytime soon, anyway," Ron said dusting off his hands.

"Ron," Hermione said warningly. "He'll be okay, _won't_ he?"

"Yeah, of course. He won't be able to sit down for a couple of days, mind you, but once the swelling goes down he'll be fine."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it. They'd met in the corridor next to the fourth floor broom cupboard, waiting for the hero, Harry, to finish his (possible) farewell with Ginny.

Ron suddenly froze. He was staring at a spot on the wall, a couple of feet to the left of Hermione. She span around to see what it was.

It was a spider.

"Sp-sp-sp-i-der!" he stammered.

"Ron, it's all right. It's not going to hurt you," Hermione tried to calm the trembling boy. "It's probably more afraid of you, than you are of it."

At that moment, Harry turned the corner. Again his hero senses kicked in.

"Do not fear! I'll protect you Ron!" and with that Harry performed the Banishing Charm; that particular arachnid was never seen again.

An awkward silence followed, in which Harry may have puffed out his chest. Finally, Ron recovered enough to be facetious.

"My _hero_," again he was bitter.

Harry failed to notice that his friend wasn't being sincere.

"There's no need to thank me - it's all in a day's work," he declared valorously.

Hermione, sensing another possible incident in the pipeline, changed the subject.

"Maybe we should get on with the quest, as we've barely progressed with it all chapter," well, someone had to say it.

"You're right," Harry agreed. "Let's do this thang."

**AN2:** Do you like it? Whether the answer's yes or no, leave a review! And if it _is_ no, then tell me why and how I could possibly make it better...please! Speaking of constructive criticism, I'm looking for a Beta-let me know if you're interested!

**AN3:** Is it just me, or since I edited this fic has it become a little more exclamation-packed than it was before? Oh well, that's melodrama for you.


	4. Chapter Four: Save the Squids

**AN:** Almost finished my editing, next chapter should be here soon!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything - instead I borrow it, chop it all up and marinade it in a cheesy sauce. Bake for 35 minutes, at gas mark 6, then leave to cool. Serving suggestion: With a pinch of salt.

**You Can't Be The Hero - That's My Job!**

**By Moi!**

**Chapter Four: Save The Squid(s)**

Hogwarts' very own Giant Squid was basking in the shallows of the lake, the mild October sun, warming his tentacles nicely. He was at peace with the world. Little did he expect what was about to happen next...

OOO

The delightful Trio were on their way to the library...again - they really intended to get there, this time. Honest. Unfortunately, for the second time in one day, events conspired against them.

"What are they _doing_?" asked a puzzled Ron of his equally puzzled friends.

They were looking out of a window that gave them a perfect view of the lake. What was going on outside had caught their attention, as they'd passed by.

At least a hundred people (a couple of them Professors, even) were throwing themselves headlong into the lake.

"Isn't it obvious? Someone must be drowning!" it took a second for Harry to realise what he'd just said. "Oh, my God! Someone's drowning!"

Cue Harry's hero senses...and he was off, to save whoever it was who was in need of saving.

"Oh! Do we _have_ to follow?" Ron whined. "By the time we catch up, we'll have missed all the drama anyway."

"Of course we _have_ to follow, Ron. We need to be there for whatever happens _after_ the drama," Hermione reasoned.

"Because we're Harry's sidekicks?" Ron muttered sarcastically, inspecting his fingernails, with feigned concentration - he didn't want to look bothered after all.

Hermione tutted. Then she decided to add something sardonic to the solitary 'tut', as it didn't sound all that impressive, as she'd hoped.

"Yes, Ron. Because we're Harry's _loyal_ sidekicks. We must aid him through _every_ endeavour, whilst not actually saving the day ourselves, by - um, I don't know? - discovering the cure for Heroismitis, say," oops! Now _that_ sounded a tad bitter. Maybe she _should_ just have been content with a 'tut'?

"Hermione! I never knew you felt that way, too," Ron was shocked, he'd assumed it was only he who had bitter and jealous moments, every now and then.

"Well, it's just - oh, I don't know. It's not as if he gets _all_ of the credit, _all_ of the time - we _do_ get rewarded quite handsomely in house points and everything; but to other people, we'll always be-"

"Harry Potter's friends?" Ron finished.

"Exactly! Don't they realise we're not _just_ Harry Potter's friends? We're also-"

"Each other's friends?" Ron grinned nervously. He liked to finish Hermione's sentences.

"Well yes, we are,_ aren't we_?" Hermione blushed for some reason. I can't think why she would do such a thing - I mean, we all know they're _friends_, surely that word _couldn't possibly_ have a different meaning in this _particular_ context? _Surely_?

"Hermione, I've just had a brilliant idea!" Ron exclaimed. "Us!"

Hermione's heart suddenly began to beat faster and she could feel the heat rising in her face.

"U-us?" she stammered.

"You're smart and I'm funny," Ron explained. "We'd make the perfect dynamic duo!"

"What do you mean by "dynamic duo"?" Hermione asked uncertainly.

"What I mean is, _we_ could solve this thing ourselves - we don't need Harry," Ron began to pace. "This is our chance to show the world that we're not just Harry Potter's sidekicks."

"You mean _we_ could find the cure for Heroismitis?" Hermione began to think of the possibilities.

"Yeah! It's not like Harry's in any fit state to do it himself," Ron watched as Harry turned up at the scene below, following suit and chucking himself into lake. "As you can see, he's just proved my point quite nicely."

"Well, come on then," Hermione began to walk away.

" "Come on", where?" asked Ron.

"Isn't it _obvious_? To the library," Hermione sighed.

"Are we actually gunna get there, this time?"

Hermione turned around and walked the half a dozen steps she'd just done; she grabbed Ron's hand and dragged him in the direction of the library. "Yes, now come on."

OOO

And they _did _make it to the library.

"Where in the bloody hell do we start?" Ron asked, realising the sheer scale of what they had to do.

"Well, medical books would be a start, find any similar illnesses with a cure, or even any existing research on Heroismitis...potions books, the cure might conceivably be a potion...obscure spell books, perhaps?" Hermione began pulling dusty tomes off the magical maladies shelf.

Two hours later they'd had little success. In fact the only new information they'd discovered was that Heroismitis initially develops in individuals with protaganistic tendencies.

"Well, that explains that, then," Ron said. "Remember when you told Harry, he had a "saving-people thing"?"

"It rings a bell," said Hermione, sadly, as she scanned a page of "So You Think You're Ailed?" "The entire incident was quite memorable."

There was a grave moment as the duo remembered Sirius. This mark of respect was abruptly brought to an end, however, when someone threw them self, bodily, across the book-strewn table.

"Malfoy! Gerroff me!" yelled a very disgruntled Ron.

"I'm trying to save your life! You might get a paper cut!" yelled a severely deranged Malfoy, as he tried to wrestle "The A-Z of Incurable 'Itis'es" out of Ron's grasp.

Ron held on tightly to the possible-paper-cut-inducing book.

"I'm prepared to take that risk. Now get off me!" he managed to wrench the hefty volume out of Malfoy's clutches, and whacked him about the head with it.

Malfoy crumpled to the library floor. He was unconscious.

A shaken Hermione left the safety of her chair, to peer over Malfoy's body.

"He's not having a good day, is he?"

"You don't say?" said Ron sarcastically. Then he decided to get to the matter in hand. "Well, he's obviously gone and got Heroismitis."

"Surely that's some sort of oxymoron?" she gave him a sharp kick in the ribs. He didn't stir. "At least he's still breathing...what are we going to do with him?" she looked around for the librarian, Madam Pince, but she was nowhere to be seen.

"The Hospital Wing?" Ron suggested.

OOO

Ten minutes later, they reached the Hospital Wing, with Malfoy on a levitating stretcher. They were met by dozens of wet and bedraggled people, who were all clearly exhibiting symptoms of Heroismitis.

"I'll save you!"

"Go now! Save yourself!"

"It's my destiny! I've gotta do what I've gotta do!"

"Shall we just dump him here, and go about the quest?" Ron did not like the idea of queuing for several hours, just to make sure _Malfoy_ was okay.

"Well, I suppose our presence isn't required any longer. Back to library?" the dynamic duo turned to leave, but found that a soaking Harry, who had equally soaked third years slung over each shoulder, blocked their way.

"Guys, where have you _been_?" not waiting for an answer, Harry started to describe all the 'fun' they had missed. "I've been dragging this crazy lot out of the lake, for the past couple of hours. I've had to put Stay Put Charms on them all, or they'd have been back in there, as soon as I'd looked the other way. Can you _believe_ that they all think _they're_ the hero? It's ludicrous, frankly. _I'm_ the only hero round these parts."

"Again with the memory loss!" Hermione tried to be calm and composed, but failed miserably. "Harry, Heroismitis is contagious, remember? They've all caught it off _you_!"

"God, Hermione, there's no need to yell," Harry said, putting down the third years, followed by a clearly enunciated: "Stayus Puttus."

"I'm NOT yelling!" she yelled; this whole sorry affair was starting to get to her.

Ron decided that since Hermione wasn't exactly up to changing the subject herself, he'd do it instead.

"Who was it that was drowning anyway?" he asked.

Tears prickled in Harry's eyes and he sniffed loudly.

"Oh, Ron it's ever so sad. Nobody managed to s-save them - _not even me_! I feel like such an utter failure...as if _I don't deserve _to be the hero, _any more_...I feel a fraud, a fake, a deceitful impostor; my heroics nothing more than a hoax, a sham, a dirty ruse, brought about, by a convenient, plot-inducing illness!" this rant may or may not be foreshadowing. "The Giant Squid needed my help and-"

"_The Giant Squid_? The Giant Squid _drowned_?" Ron was disbelieving. "Are you _seriously_ trying to tell me that _you all dived in the lake to save the Giant Squid_, an _aquatic_ creature!" he took a deep breath. "Aquatic creatures can usually swim, Harry, and breath under water."

"Or if not, hold their breathe for a very long time!" Hermione added savagely.

Ron was struck with the sudden realisation that another, as of yet unknown, symptom of Heroismitis was stupidity. He voiced this opinion.

"Well, obviously, Ron. There's a fine line between bravery and stupidity, after all." Hermione concluded.

There was an awkward silence.

"So what have you two been up to whilst I've been busy?" Harry enquired, hoping to fill the silence, rather than actually caring.

"We've been busy too," Hermione said, indignantly. "We've been actually trying to find a cure for Heroismitis - ring any bells?"

"Yes, of course it does," she had hurt his feelings. "You're _so_ mean these days, Hermione."

Hermione looked at him, as if she was going to give him a piece if her mind, but instead she burst into tears and flung her arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder. This was all done in a very _platonic_ way of course.

"I'm so sorry! But it's just so stressful, seeing you like this." Hermione tried to explain. "It's my way of dealing with things...there might also be a bit of PMT going on"

"EW!" Ron and Harry visibly flinched.

"Don't be silly, boys," she said distractedly, fumbling for a handkerchief in her pocket.

**AN2:** What's the verdict? Yay or nay? Be kind!


	5. Chapter Five: I Smell Danger!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything - instead I borrow it, chop it all up and marinade it in a cheesy sauce. Bake for 35 minutes, at gas mark 6, then leave to cool. Serving suggestion: With a pinch of salt. This chapter contains violence.

**AN:** Yes, it's chapter five! Unfortunately real life events got in the way of my writing this fic. But it's here now.

**Dedication:** To anyone who's actually reading this, and not thinking of flaming it. In particular _Elphaba_ who promised to "...find a way to kill me." if I abandoned it. Also, to Richard Hammond - get well soon!

**You Can't Be The Hero - That's My Job!**

**By Moi!**

**Chapter Five: I Smell Danger!**

After Hermione's traumatic reference to the effects of the female menstrual cycle, the two boys were scared into silence, a silence which Hermione didn't notice as she was too busy telling Harry about what had happened in the library.

"...even Slytherins are falling foul of Heroismitis now. This is really bad," she glanced at her watch. "Slytherins showing signs of heroism is just unnatural. They're inclined to be selfish, and only ever to look out for themselves. This is serious, we've got to stop wasting time and find a cure."

Hermione suddenly realised that her male comrades hadn't said anything for a while. "Ron! Harry! Are you listening to a word I'm saying?"

"Yes," Ron squeaked, not making eye contact with the pre-menstrual-tensionedful young woman. "Of course we are. It's just - it's just...Harry you wanted to say something?"

"No, no, Ron. I'm good," Harry made a welcoming gesture. "You go right ahead."

"I'd really rather not," Ron wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "It'd be much better coming from you, Harry, anyway."

"No, it wouldn't!"

"Yes, it would!"

"We don't have time for this nonsense," Hermione asserted. "One of you just say whatever you want to say. Now!"

Ron looked at Harry who turned away sheepishly. "I thought you were supposed to be all brave and everything these days?"

"Yeah, but I'll never possess the amount of courage needed to say _that _to her," Harry confessed.

"Then what hope do I have?" Ron asked doubtfully.

Harry glanced nervously at Hermione and wheeled Ron round. Ron getting the idea that they were having a Private Talk tilted his right ear closer toward Harry. Harry began to explain his theory, in nought but a whisper.

Hermione, who was anxious about the time they were wasting, sighed, rolled her eyes and began to tap her foot impatiently.

"Hermione's not going to kick _you_ where it hurts for saying it, is she? Not when she's got designs on you and probably wants you to father her children one day."

"I'm not sure I understand what your insinuating."

"Ron, Ron, Ron, Ron, _Ron_," Harry sighed, whilst draping his arm round Ron's shoulder, in a fatherly sort of manner, despite Harry never having come across as a father-figure toward Ron before. "Is it not obvious what I speak of?" Harry continued as though his question had been rhetorical. "Hermione's got the hots for you!" he exclaimed. He was of course still whispering, but it still counted as an exclamation if you ask me. Just _imagine_ the embarrassment all round if he'd actually said it audibly! Cringey.

Of course, Ron still got all embarrassed and flustered, as he _had_ been able to hear Harry's exclaimed-whisper. He went red right to the tippy-tip-tips of his ears.

"You really think so?" he whispered back.

"Is the thought of _me_ and Hermione being romantically-involved sickening?" asked Harry in the same tone you would use if you were inquiring whether the Pope was Catholic.

"Quite frankly - yes."

More Harry/Hermione-friendly exchange:

"Is 'ja' German for 'yes'?" asked Harry in the same tone you would use if you were inquiring whether the Pope was Catholic.

"I think it might just be - yes."

"Well there's your answer then," Harry concluded. "Now go tell her you love her!"

Ron furrowed his brow. "That wasn't what we were conferring over."

"Wasn't it?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Then what _were_ we conferring over?

"Why Hermione wasn't likely to kick _me_ in the balls if I told her-"

"Ah, yes. I remember now."

There was silence.

"So go then. Tell her," Harry wheeled Ron back round again, so they were facing Hermione once more. She was examining her eyebrows in a nearby mirror.

"Finished?"

"Yes."

"So what was it you were going to tell me?"

Ron closed his eyes and wished he was anywhere other than where he was right now. "Hermione, please don't hurt me, but, well, you're not going to like this," Ron grimaced and felt it was better to get it out sooner rather than later. "Me and Harry are concerned for our safety at the moment, considering it's your - you know - _Time Of The Month_."

Ron hid behind Harry.

Hermione didn't say anything for a number of seconds. It was clear this had been the last thing she'd expected to hear. "Why would you be concerned for your safety?"

"Err...remember when you slapped Malfoy that time?" Harry broached.

"I was tired! And he deserved it!" Hermione shrieked. "I was really, _really_ worn-out that year - time-travel does that to you!"

"I'm aware that you had issues, but..." upon seeing the look of pure menace in Hermione's eyes, Harry tailed off.

"I SMELL DANGER!"

The trio jumped about a foot in the air.

They were still outside the hospital wing, standing next to Malfoy's levitating stretcher; only Malfoy wasn't sprawled unconscious on it anymore. He'd sat bolt-right up, and announced that he could "...smell danger".

He had a crazed look in his eyes as he leapt up, and ran past several still-bedraggled students, and into the hospital wing.

The trio followed, not wanting to miss Malfoy do something stupid. In fact, Ron wished he had a camera on him. You know - for blackmail purposes.

As they entered they hit a wall of people, all of whom were damp and professing a need to go do something heroic. But they couldn't see Malfoy anywhere.

"Where'd he go?"

Madam Pomfrey was running about administering potions and handing out blankets.

"Madam Pomfrey, did you see Draco Malfoy come in here?" Hermione asked the Matron as she continued her fussing.

"Is he missing, dear?" concern was etched in her voice as she simultaneously held down a third-year Ravenclaw in a bid to give him some potion. "We should form a search party at once if that's the case."

"Oh no, it's nothing like that. He ran in here, after shouting "_I smell danger!_" and that struck us as a little odd - despite the Heroismitis -so we followed. So you didn't see...?" Hermione forgot to finish her sentence when her eyes met the truly bizarre sight of Draco Malfoy - _the_ Draco Malfoy, cold-hearted, arrogant snob - wearing what appeared to be a hospital gown tied around his neck a la cape fashion, and his green and silver (_naturally_) underwear no longer _under_ what he was wearing.

"I know it's officially clichéd for me to say "Bloody Hell!" and everything," said Ron. "But _Bloody Hell_!"

Silence had fallen over the ward, as everyone gawped at Malfoy's new get-up.

"You may mock, Weaselboy, but your dastardly plot to shatter my confidence is futile. You'll need a lot more than 'Bloody Hell'."

"Did you just call me _Weaselboy_?" Ron spat, outraged.

It was at this moment that Madam Pomfrey made another revelation. "Dear Lord! He's developed _Super_heroismitis!"

An audible gasp resonated around the hospital wind, and a Hufflepuff first-year even fainted (not very heroic, but there you go - it's not like Harry's never lost consciousness before, mind.).

Harry stepped forward, valiantly, addressing the Matron. "How can you be sure?"

Disbelieving, she replied. "He's wearing his unmentionables _over_ his robes, Mr Potter. It's a clear sign."

"Of course," he replied pensively. "In your expert opinion, would you say this was a - you know - a _bad thing_?"

"Only for you," Malfoy smirked. Some things never change. "_The Scar_. My archenemy."

Harry raised his left eyebrow quizzically.

"And this penchant for calling people ridiculous names - is there any connection?"

"I'd hazard a guess and say so - yes," she confirmed and not without a hint of sarcasm.

Harry decided he didn't care for her tone, so instead questioned Malfoy himself. "Do you have any superhuman powers now you're a super hero then, eh?"

"Of course. As SuperDragonBoy, I have many powers. For example, I can fly..._without_ a broom."

"Nay! That's impossible!" cried Harry.

"Not for me it's not!"

"That's a double negative!" screamed Hermione.

"Double negatives aside, it's still impossible," Harry assured. His green eyes locked with Malfoy's grey ones. "_Prove_ it."

"Okey doke." Malfoy scrunched up his face, as though he were concentrating - or con_stipated_ - and slowly, but surely, two enormous wings sprouted out of his back, ripping his robes.

They were black, tinged with green, and covered in spikes.

Malfoy looked up at the startled faces of absolutely everyone. And smirked.

With that he flapped his newly-grown wings and took flight.He soared around the hospital wing, above their heads, before speeding towards the doors at full pelt; but before he could crash into them, a bright orange flame shot from his open mouth and set the doors ablaze.

As everyone screamed in terror, Harry just managed to see Malfoy disappear into the inferno he'd created.

"This is definitely _not_ a good thing," he said to no one, as they we all too busy spraying jets of water from their wands at where the doors used to be - this shocking event had not changed the fact that they were still infected with Heroismitis. Harry really had to do something about _that_ too.

OOO

"I call this emergency meeting of the Golden Trio to order," Harry banged his gavel on the podium in front of him. They were in the Room of Requirements, which had arranged itself into a meeting room for the trio - there was the podium which Harry was standing at, and two wooden chairs facing it, which Ron and Hermione were sat on, respectively. "Role call: Harry James Potter - here - Ronald Bilius Weasley?"

"Here."

"Hermione Jane Granger?"

"Is this really necessary, Harry?"

"Hermione Jane Granger?"

"Here." she sighed.

"Good, good. Now we may begin," Harry picked up his wand and pointed to a blackboard behind him. "The reasons I have called this emergency meeting today, are as follows: one, I have become infected with Heroismitis - that's not to say that I wouldn't be The Hero otherwise, though; two, it has in turn infected the majority of the school, as well; three, we have not found a cure for Heroismitis yet, despite _all_ our endeavours; and finally, four, Malfoy's a dragon."

"We knew all that already, Harry," Hermione pointed out.

"Yes, yes, that was just a brief recap."

"Okay then. What are we going to _do_?" she asked.

"I haven't thought that far ahead, yet, " Harry admitted. "I was just thinking we could throw some ideas around, you know?"

"I have an idea - why don't we all just go to bed and learn to live with these new changes?" Ron suggested. He was tired. This story had been going on since lunchtime, and that had to have been hours ago now, and it still didn't look as if they'd be able to turn in any time soon.

"Ron! What kind of hero would I be if I didn't save everyone?"

"One who knew when it was time to give up?"

"The Hero _never_ gives up!" Harry was outraged.

"Calm down, Harry," Hermione soothed. "I'm sure Ron was only joking. Weren't you, Ron?"

"Not really. I just want to go to bed," he said simply.

"Go to bed! _Go to bed_?" Harry cried indignantly. "_Where_ would we _be_ if we'd ever _gone to bed _before?"

"We've been to bed plenty of times before - not together I hasten to add," Ron didn't want any of _those_ sorts of rumours going about.

"Yes, but never when we've had any questing to do," Harry reasoned.

"There's got to be a first time for everything."

"Go!" Harry ordered. "Get out of my sight this instant. I don't have time for any sidekicks who aren't entirely dedicated to the questing."

" I. AM. _NOT_. YOUR. SIDEKICK!" Ron said angrily through gritted teeth. He stood abruptly, and slammed out of the room.

Harry pretended that he hadn't just pissed one of his best friends off.

"So. Hermione any ideas?"

Hermione tutted.

Before either of them could say another word. The door was thrown open and Ron stormed back in.

"You know why I'm not _your_ sidekick?" Ron said as those he's never left the room. "You know why? Because _I'm_ The Hero, that's why."

"Oh no," Hermione sighed, holding her head in her hands.

"_Excuse_ me?" Harry asked as though he'd misheard Ron.

"You heard me."

"What I heard was you saying _you_ were The Hero," Harry laughed. "But I know that can't be true."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"You want some?"

"Bring it on!"

!POW!

Ron had punched Harry squarely on the nose.

Hermione screamed. "Ron, no!"

Harry steadied himself.

"What was that for?" he yelled, both shocked and angry.

"You told be to _bring it on_," Ron replied, a tad confuzzled. "So, that's what I did."

"I just got a bit caught up in the moment," Harry explained. "I didn't actually want you to thump me."

"Oh."

"_Yeah_. Oh."

"What now, then?" Ron asked anxiously.

Harry turned away from Ron's gaze, and replied sulkily, "I'm not quite sure I want to be your friend right now."

"Harry, don't."

"No." Harry pouted. "I can't look at you anymore."

"_Harry_! No!"

"Perhaps, it would be for the best if you left for a while, Ron," Hermione reasoned. "Give everyone a chance to cool off."

Ron gaped open-mouthed at Hermione.

"But-"

"No, Ron. Just give it a little while."

"Okay, then," he said resignedly. He shuffled sadly to door.

He turned back and gave a look of regret to his two best friends.

"But I'll be back."

"Of course you will, Ron," Hermione concurred.

Then he left.

**AN:** Wohoo! I've finally finished chapter five!


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